


The Perfect Gift

by Guardian Of The Lotus (DistantStorm)



Series: Fictober 2019 [4]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Mild Innuendo, Zavala gives the best presents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 06:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantStorm/pseuds/Guardian%20Of%20The%20Lotus
Summary: Zavala plans a birthday surprise for Hawthorne.(It may or may not be pie.)Written for day 4 of the Fictober 2019 Challenge on Tumblr: "I know you didn't ask for this."





	The Perfect Gift

He has always been the type to go above and beyond, out of his way.

Like today, for example. 

Today is her birthday. A fact she really doesn't want the entire City to know about, lest they carry on, giving gifts and making her uncomfortable.

He knows because he has access to all of the City's records. And because he'd spent time analyzing hers before sealing it (at least the more criminal parts). So, the day had started with coffee from her favorite place, and those little meat-pies from a vendor on the other side of the City she never had enough time to get to before work. And, she didn't see hide nor hair of Hideo the entire day.

Really, that was the most excellent of presents. She swore the Executor took the long way to the elevators just so he could scoff loudly outside her office.

So when the day is done, the Vanguard meeting wraps up early - a fact which Cayde will not let go, but Zavala will give no reasoning about - she walks back to his office with him in a companionable silence. It's surprising how early it is. Half the time they're working through the night to catch up on everything they've got on their plates, only to load up more tasks each day and fall further behind.

He deposits his tablet on his desk - in lieu of his Ghost transmatting it away in whatever space she uses to store things for him. Suraya hasn't asked for the dissertation on that, nor does she plan to, so long as his Ghost continues to help her when it comes to grocery shopping - because honestly she gets the whole walls equal defensive perimeter thing, but whomever designed this city to build up instead of out never had the pleasure of climbing forty flights of stairs after a sixteen hour day with a week's worth of meal prep.

They continue on, heading down the north elevators before taking a rather leisurely stroll back to the Vanguard Apartments. It's when they're nearly there that Zavala starts acting squirrelly.

"I know you didn't ask for this," He begins, and her posture does that thing - her chest puffing up slightly, shoulders sliding back, evaluating him.

"But?"

"I may have orchestrated a gathering."

She sighs. "You mean a surprise party?"

"I wouldn't go that far. I just wanted you to know that we wouldn't be alone, in case…" He trails off.

What he means is 'in case Suraya wants birthday sex,' because she has recently discovered that pinning Zavala against his door (it's more of a metaphor, he certainly could push her off, but he hasn't yet) is a surefire way to get his dick's complete and undivided attention. And then, y'know, to fuck like bunnies until one of them cramps up from dehydration or becomes too hungry(her) or exhausted(him, but sometimes her) to continue. 

"Alright," She supposes. "I'm going to trust you on this.'

Unlike her flat - and hence why it's so infrequently used - his is at the top of a building with an elevator. And don't get her started on the kitchen. How this man has a borderline industrial kitchen but can't scramble an egg is-

"Do you smell that?"

Zavala smirks, eyebrows doing that thing. The one that says 'I know exactly what you're talking about, but I'll never admit it.'

"No," He refutes innocently. "Smell what?"

"I smell pie," She whispers, looking at him suspiciously. This wasn't just any pie.

No, she’d know the smell of Devrim’s baking anywhere. “Did you-” She shakes her head, babbling, “Amanda said you were good. I didn’t think you were _this _good.”

He puts a palm between her shoulder blades, ushering her to his(their?) door. “Go on,” He encourages mildly. Marc and Devrim had been beyond delighted to come visit at his behest. “Happy birthday.”


End file.
